


Advent Carol

by Greenlady



Series: Twelfth Night [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-19
Updated: 2010-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 00:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Greenlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex and Clark are about to celebrate their first Christmas together as lovers. Will their relationship survive the stresses of the season?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent Carol

Advent Carol  
***********

'Twas in the moon of winter time,  
When all the birds had fled….

***********

Clark stirred into wakefulness, and reached across the bed. The sheets were cold. Lex was not where he was supposed to be. Clark sighed.

'I'm over here,' said Lex, from the window seat. It looked out over a garden, fresh with fallen snow. It was the weekend before Christmas, and two weeks before New Year's Day. 18 days until Twelfth Night.

If one were counting, that is.

Clark got out of bed and went to join Lex in the window. He was naked, but Lex was wrapped in a warm red robe. The deep red against the backdrop of white snow looked like a splash of blood, thought Clark. He cleared his throat, as a preamble.

'Nasty bug going around this year, if even you're catching it,' Lex observed.

'I'm fine,' said Clark. And then, 'It's snowing.'

'Well, so it is,' said Lex, with specious amazement.

A long moment of silence.

'Clark, if you want to say something, just say it.'

'I… I just wanted to tell you not to worry,' said Clark.

'Who's worrying?'

'You are. I can hear the wheels turning in your head.'

'I can hear yours creaking.'

'Lex… I wish you'd just talk to me. Reasonably, I mean.'

'There's nothing to talk about,' said Lex, mendaciously.

'Look. Twelfth Night is coming up.'

'Yes?'

'And the Green Man is waiting for a rematch.'

'Yes?'

'And I know you're plotting something, because you're always plotting something, and I'm not going to let you interfere. I… I forbid it.'

Lex laughed, the loudest Clark had heard him laugh in years. 'You? Forbid me? Who died and made you my father? Oh! Wait.'

'That's not funny,' said Clark.

'Believe me,' said Lex. 'I don't think anything about my father is funny. I… I didn't even think it was funny when he went flying out of the window, his face so shocked, and then he hit the ground… splat! Like that, and his brains spilled out all over the pavement. Where they belonged, Clark. It was… it was satisfying, but it wasn't funny.'

'Lex? What are you saying? Lex?'

'I'm telling you the truth, Clark, something you rarely do. You kept asking about Lionel, and what happened. Now you know. I killed him because I wanted to. I always wanted to kill him, so I did.'

'Lex, you don't mean that.'

'Don't tell me what I mean,' said Lex, his voice cold and hard. 'You should leave, now. It's time for your morning patrol… Superman.'

'Lex. Don't.' Clark reached for Lex, but the man slapped his hand away, and then winced. 'Be careful,' said Clark. 'You hurt yourself. Let me see.'

'I'm fine,' said Lex, a patent lie. 'Or I will be fine in a few minutes. It would be better if you left. Much better.'

'Fine,' said Clark. 'I'll leave. But we need to talk about this. About what happened with Lionel, I mean.'

'Tomorrow,' said Lex. 'I'm busy today. Running a multibillion dollar business called LexCorp'

*****************

'That was stupid,' said Mercy.

'No one asked your opinion,' said Lex.

'You're getting it anyway,' said Mercy. 'Let me see your hand.' Mercy's face was not soft and full of sympathy. Her eyes were cold and hard and demanding. That was a relief, and Lex held out his hand. 'Doesn't look like you broke anything,' Mercy decided. 'Probably bruised a bone or two. What were you trying to do, anyway? No, I know it's none of my business, but I'm an interfering busybody.'

'Sure you are,' said Lex. ''Just to satisfy your curiosity, I want Clark out of the way. Did you send Mrs. Kent the roses?'

'What am I? A florist? Yes, I sent her roses, but only because you asked so nicely. You know what I think?'

'No, and I don't care.'

'I think you should just ask Clark for what you want from him. Trying to manipulate him into doing what you want? Not so bright.'

'Thank you for your opinion.'

'You're welcome. Any time.'

'I asked Clark for something,' said Lex. 'Once. He didn't do it.'

'How old was he then? 18 and the centre of the universe in his own mind? People do grow up, you know. Occasionally.'

'That's about the size of it,' said Lex. 'And I know Clark has changed. But so have I. I don't need rescuing any longer.'

'Famous last words,' said Mercy.

****************

Repairing broken china was not the sort of hobby anyone would associate with Superman, and so it made a perfect psychological disguise, of course. But there were other reasons Clark had taken up this occupation. Learning perfect, delicate, extreme control, for one. Of course he had long ago gained control of his massive strength, but restoring a precious porcelain vase required a control that went beyond even that.

Donnelly Milash opened a new crate and carefully pushed back the straw to reveal a tiny porcelain bowl, wrapped in faded rice paper. 'I paid a thousand for this,' he commented, then looked up at Clark, and raised an eyebrow.

'Isn't that a bit low?' asked Clark. I hope he didn't cheat the original owners too much, he thought to himself.

'It was from an estate sale,' Milash went on. 'An auction. The original owner being dead. If the bowl were in perfect condition it would have fetched far more,' Milash nodded at him, approvingly. 'But look…'

Milash peeled back the rice paper, and Clark groaned. 'That's very bad,' he said. Someone, far back in barbaric times, had repaired the bowl using metal braces. Ouch. 'How are you going to fix that?'

'We are going to work very slowly,' said Milash. 'Think you're ready?'

'You… you're going to let me work on something from the Han Dynasty?'

'I think you're ready. But the important opinion is your own.'

'I think I can help you,' said Clark. 'I'm not ready to fly solo.'

'Fair enough.' Milash smiled, and lifted the bowl out of the crate, and put it on the table between them.

Clark looked the bowl over, very carefully. Milash had taught him to repair broken china, beginning with cheap cups and bowls deliberately broken. When Clark was able to fix something so well that even Milash had trouble identifying the original cracks, they had moved on to more expensive ware. Milash had put him on the payroll as a part-time assistant.

It was a good deal all around. Milash had expanded his antique business into a restoration business. Clark had an excuse to hang out with Lex's mentor and learn more about his techniques in dealing with Lex. Lex had been a bit jealous at first, but when he realized that neither his friend nor his lover was about to dump him, he seemed to relax and enjoy the entire fellowship. He put his own labs to work developing new and better glues to fix china and the results had been a success.

Clark used his x-ray vision on the Chinese bowl, and then his microscopic vision. 'I think we can remove the braces without breaking it,' he told Milash.

'Good. It's amazing the amount of damage someone can do, just trying to help.'

'I know, Mr. Milash.'

'Oh, that wasn't another of my pointed lectures,' said the older man.

'I know that too, but it's true, isn't it?'

'More troubles on the home front?' the man asked, calmly.

'Not really. No. I don't think so. Maybe.'

Milash laughed. 'Which is it?' he asked.

'Honestly, I'm not sure. Lex is tense, and I don't blame him. But… he seems to be handling the tension by getting more and more sarcastic, mostly at me. Today it just all kind of… blew up. But I don't think it's serious trouble. I wish he'd just talk to me.'

Milash laughed again. 'You're expecting a miracle, if you're expecting that.'

'I know,' said Clark.

'The thing to do, is look beneath the surface, like with the bowl. Follow the cracks. See where they lead. Will the centre hold if you take the brace away, or will it fall apart?'

'So, this turned out to be a useful lesson after all,' said Clark.

Milash smiled. 'I guess so,' he said.

*************

Clark flew home, to the farm. He laughed a little to himself, though, as he entered the borders of Smallville. First a talk with my newest father figure, he thought. Then a chat with Mom and some of her apple pie. Lex is right. Most men never grow up….

Except that Mom wasn't home, and that was odd this time of day. Usually she was cooking dinner right about now. Of course she didn't owe him an explanation of her timetable and itinerary, but still…

Clark looked around the kitchen, searching for clues, and there they were… two dozen of them… beautiful long-stemmed red roses, dumped unceremoniously in the garbage. Huh?

Clark dug through the garbage and found a card. 'Dear Martha. Merry Christmas. Love, LL'

LL? LL? What other person with those initials could afford to send Mom expensive flowers like that? And call her Martha? And Mom would throw whose flowers out?

They were beautiful roses, thought Clark. He gathered them together, found a vase, filled it with water and arranged the roses as best he could. Mom could have done better, but she didn't care, obviously. Clark put the vase on the kitchen table, found himself a slice of cold apple pie, and sat down to eat, and think. A few minutes later, he decided this was a two slice problem, and settled in to think some more.

************************

When he and Lex had first become lovers, Lex had given him a lecture on the subject of intimacy. 'Physical intimacy does not equal emotional and mental intimacy,' he had informed Clark. 'Just because we sleep together doesn't mean we will magically begin to know each other better outside of bed.'

Clark had rolled his eyes. 'I don't know why you think I'm still a boy with all kinds of immature beliefs about the world,' he said. 'I know sex isn't a magical cure-all.'

'All men are still boys, inside,' Lex had said.

'Does that include you?'

'Probably.'

'Well, see, now we know a little more about each other, and what we have in common. And I'm going to study you and learn more. I'm going to learn all your secrets.'

'I don't have any secrets,' Lex had said. 'I'm just an ordinary business man, with no mysterious secrets. Move along, there's nothing to see here.'

'Very funny,' said Clark. But he had kept his promise, and he had learned more about Lex.

Lex fought him every time he tried to take control, but, in the end, if Clark were resolute enough, Lex liked it. The secret lay in consistency and purity of purpose. Single-mindedness. Clark learned to be firm and clear and to finish what he started. After a while, Lex began to argue less when Clark indicated he wanted to be in the driver's seat. He still argued, of course, being Lex, but he also seemed to enjoy the argument as part of the sex.

Lex loved to give. He had a lot of problems with receiving. Essentially, he didn't believe in the gifts he was offered, or he thought there were strings attached. Clark learned to be as clear and forthright when he gave Lex presents as when he gave Lex orgasms. 'Here, Lex. This is a present from me to you. That's all it is, just a present. Hope you like it.' Then Clark would seem to forget about the present, and move on to other things. In a few days, Clark would notice Lex reading the book, wearing the scarf, eating the chocolate, as if they were a part of his life.

That's what Clark was aiming for: to be accepted as part of Lex's life. Now, as he sat staring at the roses, he saw how far he had to go to achieve that goal.

Okay. Lex had sent Martha roses. Why not say so to Clark in passing? 'Hey, Clark! I sent your mother roses.' Why all the drama this morning with the staring out on the new fallen snow and the revelations about Lionel? Why would Lex send Martha Kent roses secretly? Was it just because everything was a big secret with Lex? And Martha herself -- she was pretty good at keeping secrets, too. The two of them together… The two of them together! Was Martha at the Penthouse right now? Talking to Lex? Yelling at him because he sent her roses? Who did that? But then women were an eternal mystery.

Clark tuned in his superhearing, just for a moment. Directed it to Lex's penthouse, to his office. There he was. There they were, rather. Mom sounded really pissed off. Saying something about Lionel. Clark shut his hearing down, abruptly. This was not the way to handle the situation with Lex, he thought. The situation with Lex was already volatile enough. He, Clark, was going to get to the bottom of the situation with Lex, but openly, honestly, with purity of purpose.

Well, openly and honestly up to a point. Maybe a bit more sneaky spying was in order first.

****************

In the little hallway -- it was probably called an anteroom, or something -- outside of Lex's personal office in the Penthouse, sat a small sofa -- probably called a chaise lounge, or something. It was beyond a doubt an antique, from the Victorian era or ancient Rome or something. Clark sat on it very carefully, not wanting to be forced to use the Fortress to visit ancient Rome to replace it if he broke it. After a few minutes one of the servants passed by and did a double take.

'Mr Kent, sir! Do you need any assistance?'

'No, of course not, Marie. I'm just waiting to talk to Lex.'

'Er… of course, sir. I… I think he's just talking to….'

'To my mother, I know. They'll be out soon. Don't worry.'

'No, sir.' The servant hurried off, hurriedly. Just in time. The door to Lex's office opened and Lex and Martha came out, Martha saying something about 'certainly not' and 'how dare you', and….

'How dare Lex what?' Clark interrupted.

Martha stopped dead in her tracks. She looked shocked.

Lex kept on coming a few paces. He looked furious to Clark's experienced eyes. But he also looked resigned and as if he'd half expected to see Clark there.

'Lex,' said Clark.

'Yes?' said Lex.

'Before you go stomping off….'

'…I don't stomp….'

'…damning me to hell and accusing me of spying on you….'

'…because you'd never do that, would you, Clark?'

'…I didn't spy on you. Not this time. Let me tell you what I did, today. I went on patrol. Went to work. Went to see Milash, and we worked on a new acquisition.'

'Fascinating.'

'Then, I decided to give you a little more time to work off your snit, and I went to see Mom. She wasn't there, so I spied on her. I went through her garbage.'

'Really, Clark!' said Martha Kent. 'Was that necessary?'

'No,' said Clark. 'But I did it anyway, and I'm glad, because guess what I found? Roses. Roses and a card from you, Lex. And I sat down, and thought about that for a while, and it all just seemed to fit, somehow. And here you are, Mom. Come to say thanks for the roses?'

'It's none of your business, Clark,' said Martha. 'And I'm going home.'

'No,' said Clark.

'No, what?'

'No to both statements,' said Clark. 'It is my business, and you're not going home.'

'I beg your pardon!'

'Not granted,' said Clark. 'Not until you explain a few things to me. Why did you throw out Lex's flowers, and then come here to complain about them? I think there's more to it than that.'

'Ask Lex,' said Martha.

'I'm asking you,' said Clark. 'Lex will tell me what he wants to tell me, when he's ready to tell me.'

'Then you'll wait a long time,' said Martha. 'He's not exactly honest.'

'And you are? You waited, like, a decade to tell me I wasn't from around here. I was fourteen before you bothered to tell me I wasn't human. Didn't you think that was my business?'

Martha stared at him. So did Lex, for that matter, but Clark paid no attention to Lex. His whole attention was on Martha.

'Why… why are you angry about that now?' she asked. 'And we explained….'

'Oh, I understand you had all kinds of reasons,' said Clark. 'It's just… don't talk to me about honesty, and don't knock Lex because he's less than totally honest. Glass houses, and all that.'

'I have more complaints about Lex than that.'

'I don't care,' said Clark. 'And I don't want to hear them. I want you to tell me about the flowers.'

'Who cares about the flowers?'

'I do. I also care about the snow globe Lex sent with them. Yes! I know about that, too. I did a little more spying, I'm afraid. I broke into the florists shop and checked out their invoices. A snow globe was delivered along with the roses. Why? And I want to hear your answer, Mom. Not Lex's.'

'I don't know why he sent those things to me.'

'I don't believe you.'

'Clark!'

'You're lying to me,' said Clark. 'I think you were involved in the business with the Green Man last winter. I think Lex discovered this, and he wanted to let you know he knew, in a way that would make you lose your cool and come here to confront him. He wanted me out of the way. Now you're here, but I figured it out and I'm in the way. Now you tell me how you were involved. Explain it to me.'

'I'll do no such thing, and I'm going home.'

'No, you're not. I'm not letting you leave, because I think you're involved in a conspiracy and it's not safe, either for you or for us. I can't protect you if I don't know what's going on. So, you better tell me what's going on, or resign yourself to staying here.'

'That's… that's kidnapping,' said Martha Kent.

'Tough!' said Clark Kent. 'I'll inform Mercy, okay? Lex?'

'Huh? Oh, yes. Thanks, Clark. I'll… I'll just go sit down for a minute.' Lex looked stunned, in a way that Clark had never seen him. As if the sun had just risen in the west, or something. Martha looked about the same, but Clark didn't have time to deal with it.

'If you want to go home tonight, or any time soon, you'd better explain the situation to me, Mom. Is that clear?'

'No, it's not clear,' said Martha. 'And there's nothing to explain. Your ethics have deteriorated since you've been living with this man.'

'Hah!'

'That's all I have to say on the subject,' said Martha.

'Well, I guess you're going to be our guest over Christmas,' said Clark.

'You can't keep me here,' said Martha.

'We'll see about that,' said Clark. 'This little apartment is like a fortress. Lex is one of the richest men on Earth. I'm Superman. And then there's Mercy….'

'Did someone mention my name?' asked Mercy, who had just appeared out of nowhere, as was her wont.

'Mrs. Kent is staying here for the time being,' said Clark.

'Very good, sir.'

'I'm doing no such thing,' said Martha. They ignored her.

'Let me know if she tries to leave,' said Clark. 'Don't hurt her. Just let me know.'

'Certainly, sir.'

'Clark!'

'Why don't you get settled in, Mom? There's lots of room here, and we won't let you starve. I'll pick up some of your clothes, later. Right now, I'm going to talk to Lex. See if he's ready to talk to me. When you're ready to talk to me, let me know.'

************

Clark found Lex in the library, sitting before the fire. He was staring at a bottle of whisky set before him, but hadn't yet poured a glass. That was a good sign, thought Clark.

'I used to be able to predict what you'd do,' Lex commented, without looking up.

'I'm sorry,' said Clark. 'I changed.'

'Yes,' said Lex.

'Is that a bad thing?'

'No. But if I can't predict what you will do, how can I….'

Clark pulled up a chair and sat beside him. 'But you can predict what I'll do. I'm on your side, now. I won't let you hurt people, and that includes yourself. But I won't let anyone else hurt you, and that includes Mom.'

'She's your mother, and you turned against her.'

'No. No, Lex. I'm not against her, I'm against her hurting us. Us. The two of us, remember? It's not just you, or just me. Not any longer.'

Lex thought for a moment, then nodded. He was staring into the fire, ignoring the bottle of whisky. That was good. He moved restlessly, stroking the rich leather of the chair arm. That was even better. 'How… how much do you know?' he asked.

'I don't know much,' Clark admitted. 'But I can speculate from what I do know. Mind if I speculate?'

'Be my guest.'

'You tried to get me out of the way so you could talk to Mom in private. Because you didn't want me to be hurt, if I learned she was involved? Or because you thought I'd take her side?'

'A bit of both,' said Lex.

'Fair enough. So, you sent her roses and a snow globe, as a message. That means you must have learned she was involved in the making of the snow globe, somehow. She confirmed that by coming here to talk to you in person. So, she's involved. I don't know how you found out… though maybe it has something to do with the numbers I found scratched on the inside of the mechanism?' That had been last spring. Clark had used his x-ray vision on the globe and found tiny numbers engraved on the base, hidden by gold paint.

'The numbers turned out to be the key,' said Lex. 'The original globe was part of a limited edition of snow globes, created early in the last century. It belonged to a collector, but was sold when she died. Sold in an estate sale, at auction, ten years ago. The edition number was in the auction catalogue.'

'Who? Who bought it?' asked Clark.

'My father.'

'Your father?'

'My father. And he sent it, with two dozen red roses….'

'To my mother.'

'Got it in one,' said Lex. 'I know that, because I went through all his private papers, and found some receipts for deliveries of roses to your mother. Who knows why he kept them, but he did. My father had odd habits, at times.'

Clark suspected that Lionel's private papers had included far more than mere receipts for roses, when it came to his dealings with Martha Kent, but he let that point go. 'And one of the receipts mentioned a snow globe?' he asked.

'One of the receipts mentioned delivery of a separate parcel with the snow globe,' Lex went on. 'I had Mercy check into the records of the florist. They were, of course, a bit concerned about being charged with delivering a possibly valuable piece of merchandise of which they knew nothing. They persuaded Lionel to give them a minimal description of the contents, for insurance purposes. Item: one snow globe. Antique.'

'So. My mother had the snow globe. For ten years, without mentioning it to me. Even after what happened last winter.'

'Yes. She's… she's involved, Clark. Has to be. If she were innocent, if the globe had been stolen from her….'

'She would have said so at the time, when I told her about it.'

'Yes. So. What do we do now?'

'Keep her here. Persuade her to tell us about it. Unless you don't want her here. I could take her to the Fortress.'

'The Fortress? In the Arctic? Leave her there alone?'

'I know,' said Clark. 'That might be dangerous. She might conspire with Jor-El. For all we know, she is already.'

'That's… that's not what I was thinking. She's your mother, Clark.'

'I know, and I love her. But she's not on our side, remember? I'm with you, here. I took on the role of your Champion, when I fought the Green Man, whether you like it or not. I'm not going to renege on my promise. There's honour involved.'

'Honour?'

'Yes. Honour. It's old fashioned, but I believe in it.'

'So do I,' said Lex. Whispered it, rather, as if afraid to say it out loud.

'I'm not going to hurt my mother, no matter what she's done, or what she does in the future, but I'm not going to let her hurt you, either. Trust me. Trust me?'

'Yes,' said Lex. 'I'll trust you.'

Clark let himself breathe, for the first time since entering the room. He knew Lex would continue to plot. He wouldn't be Lex if he didn't have at least a dozen contingency plans ready and waiting. That was fine with Clark. But at least he was talking to Clark. At least he'd said he'd trust Clark. That was a beginning.

'Why don't we go to bed?' Clark suggested.

'Bed?' Lex looked up, confused. 'It's hardly bedtime….'

'I wasn't suggesting we sleep,' said Clark.

'Oh?' said Lex, looking less confused. 'What were you suggesting?'

 

********************

Clark did a long, slow strip tease. His feet were already bare, as he'd kicked off his shoes back in the library. Now he undid his belt, and eased if from the loops, letting it slither and slide down his body. Next, he pulled off his T-shirt, very slowly, giving Lex a glimpse of first one nipple, and then the other. Finally he tore if off over his head and tossed it at Lex, who was sitting back against the headboard, his legs spread suggestively. Ah, this was the entire point of existence, wasn't it? Perfectly beautiful moments like this.

Clark undid the top button on his jeans. He started to unzip the zipper, but then stopped and smiled at Lex.

'You are evil,' growled Lex.

'Yes,' Clark growled back at him. 'Now the truth is out.'

'I always knew you were evil. Or suspected it, at least.'

Clark pounced on top of Lex, straddling his body. Lex tried to attack the zipper himself, but Clark caught his hands and held them over his head. 'No, no, no,' he said. 'Not yet.'

'Well, when?'

'Don't think about time. Just enjoy your lap dance,' said Clark. He let go of Lex's hands, and flexed his muscles for him, letting the light from the bedroom fireplace play over his abs and his pecs. He looked down at his lover appreciatively, too. Lex's shoulders were broad and strong. He was already hard and erect, and Clark was thinking of cutting short the 'lap dance' and moving on to the next stage of the game.

He started to unzip his jeans, again, letting his own erection peek out.

'Come on!' said Lex.

'Patience, Grasshopper. We're not on a schedule, here.' Clark shimmied out of his jeans, at last, and stretched out on top of Lex's naked body.

Lex sighed. 'You may not be on a schedule….'

'Sh,' said Clark. 'Stop worrying about schedules. I'm Superman, and you are Lex Luthor. Who would dare to interrupt us?'

Someone knocked on the door.

'What the….' Lex and Clark said, in unison.

Another knock. 'Clark Kent. I know you're in there. I need to talk to you, young man.'

'Mom!' said Clark, looking down at his lover's shrinking erection. 'Damn.'

******************

'Mom, do you have any idea… No, of course not. How could you? Look, that was my bedroom door you were knocking on.'

'I know,' said Martha. 'What were you doing in bed at that time of the day?'

'You're kidding, right? I was playing checkers.' The messy state of the bed, along with various items of his clothing, mixed with Lex's, should have given her a few clues, but Martha seemed to be playing clueless on every subject right now.

'Don't talk to me in that tone of voice. I don't care what I interrupted. I want to go home, and I can't even make a phone call outside. Not even with my own cell phone. Something's blocking the signal.'

'I told you this place was like a fortress. It's Lex's own Fortress, actually. Nothing comes in or goes out, without his knowledge and permission. The security is even tougher, since the events of last winter. Events in which you were involved. Talk to me about those events, and I'll not only let you go home, I'll escort you there. Or…or I'll find you a safe house. That will be better…. But actually, you're probably safest of all here, Mom. Just relax and enjoy yourself. Lex's Chef is among the best in the world. He's got the best Home Theatre system I've ever seen….'

'You never stop, do you?'

'No, I don't. Not when there's an important principle at stake.'

'I had nothing to do with your important principle.'

'See, I just don't believe you, and I'm sorry about that, but the evidence is too striking for me to ignore…. In fact, why are you so insistent that you have to leave now? You've only been here, how long? A couple of hours? Is anyone mistreating you?'

'No, but this is still false imprisonment. It's… it's still unethical.'

'I've done a few unethical things to other people,' said Clark. 'Sometimes at your recommendation. Sometimes to Lex -- at your recommendation. Chickens come home to roost, sometimes.'

'Clark?' Lex was standing in the doorway from the bathroom, fully dressed. He was a little flushed, but looked calm and collected otherwise. 'I don't think you should talk to your mother like that.'

'Why not?' asked Clark.

'It's rude and disrespectful.'

'Oh? Okay,' said Clark. He smiled and leaned back in his chair, tied the belt of his robe tighter, and studied his nails, rather pompously.

'Mrs. Kent,' said Lex. 'If anyone here has mistreated you in any way, or made you feel uncomfortable, I apologize. In fact, why don't we adjourn to the library, or some other room of the house, while Clark gets dressed? Dinner will be served soon, but I could order some tea or coffee or whatever you want….'

'What I want is to go home,' said Martha.

'As Clark has been at some trouble to point out, Mrs. Kent, we don't think that's a good idea.'

'I don't care what you think.' Martha was almost shouting, by now.

'We don't think it's wise that you're so uncaring about what we think,' said Lex.

'I agree with Lex on that topic, Mom. I'm Superman, and he's Lex Luthor. For anyone to completely ignore what we think seems to me to be a bit….' Clark tried to find an appropriate term.

'Injudicious?' Lex suggested. 'Impolitic? Ill-gauged?'

'All that and more,' said Clark.

'This act of yours….' Martha began.

'Act?' said Clark. 'What act?'

'The two of you, in perfect harmony.'

Clark howled with laughter. 'Lex? And me? Harmony? Maybe, but not perfect, no. But we are in agreement on this one thing. Whoever you're plotting with, Mom, it's dangerous. Talk to us about it.'

'I have nothing to say,' said Martha.

'Well, I'm going to get dressed,' said Clark. He picked up his discarded clothes, and headed for the bathroom. 'Why don't you do as Lex suggested? Go have some tea. I'll join you in a minute.'

He could hear Lex trying to make polite conversation with a sullen Martha Kent, as they went down the hall to the library. Clark studied himself in the bathroom mirror, and decided a cold shower was in order.

 

******************

 

Dinner was rather… uncomfortable, to say the least. Martha refused to make small talk, so Lex and Clark chatted with each other, over her head, on any topic other than the coming challenge from the Green Knight.

Clark found himself glancing at his mother, off and on, and wondering. He remembered leaving Earth, to look for his origins on the planet Krypton. He had been gone for five years, and yes, there had been changes in that time. But Martha Kent had seemed the same person he had said goodbye to. She had welcomed him home, saying little of her life while he was gone. Had that all been some sort of blind? What had happened, while Clark was off exploring outer space, looking for something that no longer existed?

Lex had changed while Clark was gone. He had settled into his role as a semi-legal business man, without Clark and Superman to fight against. A period of separation had done them both good, thought Clark.

But had those years alone done Martha Kent any good, or had she spent that time musing on old grievances, like Chloe?

After dinner, Clark told Lex he wanted to speak to his mother alone, and he'd see him later. Lex agreed. 'You should talk to your mom,' he said. 'Even if she doesn't answer, keep the lines of communication open.'

Easier said than done, thought Clark.

'What are you and Lex plotting?' Martha asked, as soon as Clark showed up in her rooms.

'Lex and I? We told you what we're up to already,' said Clark. 'You are the one who seems to be plotting.'

'Well, Lex was always good at trying to drive a wedge between us,' said Martha, as if this were an obvious fact.

'When? When did he try to drive a wedge between us? I don't remember that happening.'

Martha stared at Clark blankly, her verbal momentum blocked. It occurred to Clark that at one time, he'd have simply accepted what she said as true, regardless of the lack of evidence. Not at first, though. When he and Lex had first been friends, he'd defended the man, argued when people accused him of things he hadn't done. But then, at some point, he'd stopped thinking, stopped analyzing Lex, and simply agreed when people told him Lex was a monster. Why? Why had he stopped analyzing, stopped arguing -- stopped thinking?

'Lex never bad mouthed you to me,' he told Martha. 'He never tried to put you in a bad light. He always supported your authority as my parents. It used to bug the hell out of me.' Clark laughed to himself, a little.

Martha seemed stymied again. Clark was meant to just slap his forehead, and agree that Lex was a bad seed, that was becoming obvious.

'When I left Earth to look for the remnants of Krypton….' Clark began. He waited for a response.

'Yes?' said Martha, cautiously.

'You didn't want me to leave.'

'Of course not. You're all the family I have left.'

'Not true,' said Clark. 'But never mind. I can understand your feelings. But it seemed more than that. Some of the arguments you made, about my role here on Earth…. That I was necessary. Not true. Earth got along fine without me before I showed up. I cleaned up that pesky nest of Kryptonians first. Earth has other superheroes. Lex has an impressive private army that he'd put at the defence of Earth in a heart beat. So why was I so necessary?'

'I was just arguing,' said Martha.

'Okay. Forget it. So, I left Earth to look for Krypton. I didn't find Krypton, but I found myself, I suppose. Like those hermits living in the wilderness who find their inner souls. That sounds self-righteous and pompous, doesn't it? But it's true. I took along some snack foods -- I don't have to eat to live, but I still like eating. And I had music and computer games and books and so on. I stopped off at a few friendly planets on the way. But mostly, I had nothing to do but think. And one thought led to another. I began to analyze my friends and family -- and then I dared to analyze myself. I didn't exactly like the conclusions I came to there. Lex thinks….'

'Lex thinks. Lex says. Lex does this. Lex does that. I'm sick of hearing about Lex,' Martha burst out. 'You used to listen to me. Now it's all about Lex. The man is a menace. You've changed since you started living with him.'

'No,' said Clark, calmly. 'I'd already changed. That's why I was ready to understand him. I realized the part I'd played in our break-up. I realized how I really felt about him. How much I love him.'

'How can you love a man like that?'

'Why is it worse to love Lex, than to love Lionel? You had a relationship with Lionel, didn't you? Even before Dad died.'

'That's none of your business,' said Martha.

'You're right, it's not my business. Like it's not your business if I sleep with Lex. But if your feelings for Lionel are what influenced your hatred for Lex….'

'It's none of your business,' said Martha, and she refused to say any more.

*******************

It was the middle of the night. Clark slept beside Lex, satisfied. Their love making might have been postponed, but was no worse for that, he thought. But Clark always slept with one ear tuned to any disturbance, and so he heard the patter of footsteps down the hall. All bedrooms in the Penthouse had their own bathrooms, so it couldn't be that. All bedrooms had their own tiny kitchens, too, so it couldn't be that. Clark used his X-Ray vision, and identified his mother as the skulker. What was she doing up so late?

Martha opened the door to Lex's study. Where had she found the key? Very curious, now, Clark sat up in bed and reached for his robe. He slid out of bed, carefully, so as not to disturb Lex. Perhaps Martha had run out of the writing paper supplied in every bedroom suite.

But no. Martha was opening cupboards full of writing paper, and ignoring it. And then she tried a locked cupboard. Clark started down the hall to the study. Martha pulled out her amazing set of keys, again. She opened the cupboard and took out… the snow globe. The Snow Globe. She studied it for a moment, and then threw it, hard as she could, against the study wall.

Or, rather, she tried to throw it, but Clark caught it first. 'What were you doing, Mom?' he asked. He looked at Martha's face, and then revised his question. 'Who are you, really?'

 

*****************

 

Lex was dreaming. He was dreaming about flying, under his own power, rather than being carried by Superman. At the moment he realized this, he knew he was dreaming, and felt some considerable trepidation. He had dreamt about flying before, of course, but every time, something had interfered with his flight. Power lines. Trees. Mountains. Once it had been a giant flying hippopotamus. He had never been able to soar over the earth without restraint.

Now, however, the sky was blue, the sun shone down upon him, and he… flew and flew. He turned cartwheels in the air, and danced upon the clouds. 'Look at me!' he called down to the people below. 'I'm flying. I'm free!'

Of course, at that very moment, parts of his psyche began to break off and comment on the situation, and he found himself lying on a couch in a psychiatrist's office, staring up at a boring beige ceiling.

'This is a dream about sex,' the analyst informed him.

'No kidding, Doctor Freud.'

'I realize that my theories are now so widely known as to be considered out of date,' said the analyst, who was, indeed, Sigmund Freud. 'Does this indicate, however, that they are inaccurate?'

'Not necessarily inaccurate,' Lex admitted. 'Merely too restricted and restrictive. My objections to Freudian theory is that it is too narrow and constrained. The human mind is far more complex than you seem to admit. You, sir, seem to view everything as sexually based.'

'Everything is sexually based,' Herr Doctor Freud insisted. 'Why do you argue against that?'

'Because you are so adamant on the subject…..'

Meanwhile his other self soared above the power lines, the trees and the mountains with ease. Was this only because of the good sex he'd shared with Clark? Perhaps, but there had been more to their interactions the past evening than simple, animal sex. He'd had his share of that in the past, and never soared so high after.

For one thing, it seemed that Clark did truly love him, if he were willing to turn against his mother on his behalf. This revelation both thrilled and terrified Lex. He'd loved Clark from the moment they met, and his love had grown to embrace Clark's family as well. No matter how much his opinion of Clark and his family had changed -- had fallen, in fact -- over the years, the love had never grown less. He had fought with Clark, as he had fought with his own father, as an expression of his love.

Love, to Lex, was not a soft emotion as Lionel had insisted. Love was strong as death, according to the Song of Songs. Love fought for its rights, terrible as a army with banners -- and as beautiful. He fought with Clark, as he had fought with his father, not because he wanted to defeat them and trample them underfoot, but because he wanted them to see him, to see him as he was, and to love him -- as he was.

Instead of sparring with him as equals, they had both turned against him, spurning his arguments, spurning his opinions -- spurning him.

And so he had started to fight against Clark, and later against Superman, rather than with them. That dual entity seemed to consider anyone who contended against him as deserving of annihilation, and Lex was determined to prove him wrong.

But then, one day, both Clark and Superman were gone. Clark set out on a journey of self-discovery in Tibet, so he said. And Superman set out to find his home world of Krypton, though it was rumoured to have blown up centuries before.

Without Superman around to criticize his every move, Lex began to relax. Everyone he loved was gone, but since everyone he loved was a source of pain, the pain was gone as well. His mother had killed his beloved baby brother, and then died of a terrible illness. He himself had pushed his father from a window, and had never really regretted that act, since it was necessary. And now Clark had flown off to find himself. Good luck on that, Lex thought.

But then Clark had returned, five years later, and seemed to have found… something. If not Krypton, if not himself, something. Wisdom? Understanding? Tolerance? Something. He had taken up the argument with Lex once again, but there was less heat in it. Lex had upped the ante by offering a cautious hand of friendship, and Clark had accepted, and then offered even more in his turn. That had been a year ago.

Lex had never enjoyed such a long-term relationship. The effects -- physical, emotional and mental -- continued to astonish him.

And now he could fly.

'You can't fly. It's all a dream, with sexual connotations.'

'Shut up, Doctor Freud.'

Lex reached across the bed to touch Clark, to reassure himself that his flight was an expression of love. The bed was empty, and he came crashing back down to earth.

He sat up, fully awake now. Where was Clark, at… three AM? In the bathroom? Lex listened, but could hear no bathroom sounds… but he was being ridiculous, he thought. So Clark wasn't in bed at three AM. It was hardly a crime. Only…after what else had happened today, with Martha, and the globe….

And then he heard voices down the hall. Raised voices. He slipped out of bed, and pulled on his robe, the dark red one. He tied the sash tightly, and then marched openly down that hall towards the voices. They were coming from his study. Clark was angry. Martha was angry. They were arguing.

Was this one of those battles orchestrated by love, or would it end in one combatant attempting to annihilate the other? Could he live with himself if it did? This was all his fault, he knew. If he hadn't….

'It is not Lex's fault,' said Clark, quite clearly. 'I'm mad at you because of what you've done. Stop trying to pass the buck to Lex. It stops here.'

Well, that was interesting. Lex stepped into the doorway, and cleared his throat. 'Good morning,' he said. 'Up bright and early, are we?'

 

***************

 

'Clark, though I say this as shouldn't, considering my own tendencies to indulge in such proclivities, I think you're being a bit paranoid, here….or, perhaps I should rather say, you're being a bit too paranoid, since, all things considered, a touch of paranoia is normal and healthy.'

'You think?'

'Yes. Suspecting your mother of ulterior motives is a normal and healthy reaction to her behaviour. However, suspecting her of not being your mother is a bit too paranoid. Have you seen an empty pod in the basement? No? How you caught her eating live mice, then? Does her backbone glow in the dark?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' said Clark.

'I rest my case,' said Lex. He turned to Martha. 'Over the last year, Donnelly Milash and Clark and I have subjected the snow globe to a considerable amount of scrutiny. We have not, however, contemplated throwing it against a wall. What led you to the conclusion that would be a wise course of action?'

Martha stared at the wall, and said nothing.

'I don't know what it is about our past interactions that has led you to believe I might be deterred from investigating the truth by stony silence,' said Lex. 'As it is, your plot has been foiled, hahaha!. And the globe is now back in my possession, still intact. If you had some darker purpose in mind other than mere destruction, based upon an irrational fear and hatred of snow globes, why don't you reveal your theory to me, with corroborative detail, and I will carry out your experiment myself. No? Okay.'

Lex shrugged, elegantly. He ruled the Underworld of Metropolis with an iron fist in a glove of adamant, but he seemed more amused by Martha's intransigence, rather than disturbed. 'Why do you think she's not your mother?' he asked Clark. 'She seems like a Kent to me.'

Clark choked on his mouthful of coffee. 'Was I that bad?' he asked, plaintively.

'Worse,' Lex replied. 'I don't think she's going to add to our enlightenment tonight. I have to be up and at work in a few hours, but I'd like to catch just a little more sleep, if that's okay with you?'

'Sure,' said Clark. 'I don't think she'll try anything else tonight.'

'Stop talking about me in the third person,' Martha objected.

'How else are we supposed to talk about you, Mom? If you'd discuss this with us….'

'I'm not saying anything,' said Martha.

'Isn't that a bit redundant, Martha? To not say anything and tell us you're not saying anything? Never mind. I haven't had enough sleep, so I'm going back to bed. In my bedroom. The bedroom I share with Clark. And I'm taking the snow globe with me, so if you try and sneak in there to recover it, you might see something you don't want to see.'

'Is that supposed to scare me, Lex Luthor?'

'I don't know,' said Lex. 'I don't know what scares you. Tell me, and I'll protect you.'

'You? Protect me?'

'Yes, I will. I'll protect you, to the best of my ability, with every fibre of my being. I will do so anyway, but if you tell me what the problem is, I'll be better equipped to deal with it.'

'My problem is you,' said Martha.

'That may well be,' said Lex. 'But unless you explain how I am your problem, I can't deal with even myself, can I? Never mind. I'm going back to bed. Get some rest. The snow globe will still be there in the morning. Are you coming back to bed, Clark?'

'Yes,' said Clark. 'I'll be there in a minute.'

Lex shrugged again, and got to his feet. His naked feet. Clark imagined one of the mob bosses of Metropolis catching sight of the terrible Lex Luthor now, and couldn't restrain a grin.

'What?' said Lex.

'Nothing,' said Clark.

Lex ambled back to their bedroom.

'Are you really my mother?' asked Clark. 'Prove it to me.'

'I don't have to prove anything to you,' said Martha.

'I wish that were true, but it isn't. Just because I haven't seen you eat a live mouse… You don't, do you?'

'I'm going back to bed,' said Martha Kent.

*****************

'I know I implied that you and I might be engaging in intimate activities in the bedroom,' said Lex. 'But I'm really too tired.'

'Sure you are,' said Clark.

*****************

'A snow globe? What does that represent?'

'I don't know, Doctor Freud.'

'It's round,' said the Father of Psychiatry.

'A brilliant observation,' observed Lex.

'A round object. Perhaps a breast, or a womb?'

'A womb? I thought everything represented the penis, for you.'

'Did you think so, indeed? Interesting. Do you want to talk about it?'

'No,' said Lex.

'Do you want to talk about wombs then? Perhaps you are suffering from womb envy.'

'Womb envy? Womb envy? You're not the Sigmund Freud I know. Not that I know you or anything. But I never read about your theory of womb envy. You, sir, are an impostor. I am beset with impostors, tonight, and I need my sleep.'

'I think we should talk about your paranoia,' said Freud. 'When did it first manifest?'

'I'm going back to flying,' said Lex. 'See you around.'

'Around? A round. A womb,' said Doctor Freud. 'I told you everything was about sex.'

 

***************************

 

Martha didn't try to invade their bedroom that night, or the next night, or the next. She seemed to settle into her new life as a 'visitor' to the Penthouse.

Lex had decided to cut down on the planned Christmas celebrations in light of Martha's being in residence. He kept the free outdoor Christmas concerts and parties intact, but cancelled his private parties at the Penthouse, and gave the money to charity. He also ordered the various Metropolis organized crime entities to cease and desist, just as he had last year.

Superman overheard some mutterings about that, as he flew on his patrols. 'Who does he think he is?' 'Not only that, but who does he think we are? Next he'll be ordering us to help little old ladies across the street.'  
'Yeah, and why don't we volunteer our time at orphanages and old folks' homes?' 'Shh. He might hear you. Don't give him ideas.' Clark reported this conversation to Lex, who liked both ideas and passed on his orders to the various mob bosses.

The muttering turned into an uproar.

The next day, a man was beaten and robbed in an alley. Superman caught the culprits as they ran, and took them to jail.

'The man will live,' he told Lex, later. 'The perps are in jail, and the victim can identify them, as well as Superman. So all is well.'

'Yes,' said Lex. He seemed distant, and thoughtful. 'I have some business to attend to' he went on. 'I may be late home tonight. Don't wait up.'

This hadn't happened since they started to live together. 'Don't stay out too late,' said Clark. 'Be careful out there.'

Lex's eyes turned cold. 'Don't tell me what to do,' he said. 'I'm old enough to take care of myself, Superman.'

Okay. That was… special, thought Clark. But then he'd have probably reacted the same way, if Lex had fussed over him, so he brushed it off and went to work.

Lex didn't come home that night.

'Is the honeymoon over?' asked Martha, nastily, the next morning. 'Your boyfriend has a new boyfriend. Or maybe a girlfriend. Did you really think….'

'It's none of your business what I really think,' said Clark. 'Lex can do what he wants, or stay out as late as he wants. I'm not his keeper.'

'No, you're my keeper,' said Martha.

'Not by choice,' said Clark. He was tired of trying to get his mother to explain herself, so he left it at that.

Lex didn't come home that night, either.

Calls to his office were routed back to the Penthouse. At midnight, Clark got fed up, turned into Superman, and flew off to find his errant lover. He found him in a cheap hotel with several empty bottles of Scotch, two full ones, and Mercy standing guard over the door.

'Leave the Boss alone,' said Mercy.

'That's for Lex to tell me, not you,' said Clark.

'Leave me alone,' said Lex.

'No,' said Clark.

'You said it was for the Boss to tell you,' Mercy pointed out.

'I didn't say I'd listen,' Clark explained. 'Talk to me, Lex.'

'No.'

'You got Kent blood in you?'

'Funny.'

'What happened? Does this have something to do with that mugging?'

'You don't want to know… No, listen, Clark. You don't want to know. It's not your business, it's mine. I'll be home tomorrow. I'm fine. I was at work today, and I'll be at work tomorrow. I just need some time alone.'

'Alone with some bottles of whisky?'

'Yeah.'

'You find whisky more comforting than I am?'

Lex took a big gulp of whisky, and poured another drink.

There seemed nothing more to say, so Clark accepted Lex's non-explanation and flew off on his patrols. The next day, the news hit the media that Metropolis crime bosses were giving money to charities and their underlings were volunteering time at orphanages and senior residences, apparently without complaint.

Lex came home. He seemed cheerful enough, but his eyes were haunted. Clark asked no questions. The Christmas season wore on, toward its inevitable conclusion on Twelfth Night.

*****************

The broken bowl simply refused to cooperate, thought Clark. He tried to ease the fragments back together the way they should go, but they seemed to twist out of his grasp, creating a sort of surrealist version of a Chinese bowl, designed by Picasso. Finally he put the pieces down on the table. 'I don't think I can fix this,' he said. 'I'm not good enough.'

'Well, that's a good beginning,' said Milash. 'Realizing your limitations is important. Give me your hands.'

Clark put his hands in Milash's. 'There is a slight tremor,' the antique dealer announced. 'The bowl can feel it, and it reacts.'

'Um? Mr. Milash, the bowl is an inanimate object.'

'Ah. That's another part of the problem -- thinking of the bowl as an inanimate object.'

'But it is….'

'Look at it,' Milash ordered.

'I have been looking at it.'

'No, really look at it. It has a form and a structure and a beauty all it's own….stop arguing with me. Stop arguing with it.'

'Yes, Sensei.'

'That's better. Now. Look. What do you see? A bowl, right? A work of art, too. But what does the bowl think it is? How does it see itself? When you know that, you'll be better equipped to put it back together. You have to think like an artist. Artists say the clay or the stone or the paint determines the final form of the work of art. Writers let the words take over. You have to think that way. You have to put yourself inside the bowl, instead of viewing it from outside.'

'I'm not an artist,' said Clark.

'That's not true,' said Milash. 'For one thing, everyone has the seeds of an artist inside them. For another, I've watched you. The feeling is there. You have to learn to trust the feeling.'

'Trusting my feelings? That's scary. Mostly my feelings lead me to do the wrong thing.'

'I'm not telling you to let your feelings rule you. I'm saying to trust them. That's different. If you trust someone, that doesn't mean you do everything they say. It means that you….'

'Understand them? Let them be themselves?'

'Yes,' said Milash. 'When you repair a bowl, let it be itself. Let it tell you what it needs. And trust your feelings.'

****************

Dinner was quiet, as always these days. Clark thought he wanted Twelfth Night to be over, whatever the outcome might be, just so he could escape this endless tension.

They were sitting in the library, having coffee and brandy -- well, Lex had brandy. Martha was reading the evening edition of the Daily Planet.

'I see there's been a big shake-up among the local mob bosses,' she observed. 'What do you know about it, Clark?'

'Nothing, Mom. I wasn't working on that story.'

'Why not? Conflict of interest?'

'No. I've never been assigned to that beat. Lois and I cover politics, conspiracies -- things like that.'

'Well, they think some of the bosses might be dead,' Martha went on.

'Who thinks they might be dead?' asked Clark.

'The reporters. They say there is speculation….'

'Oh. Speculation. Anyone can speculate anything about anything.'

Lex spoke up for the first time. 'I speculate that the bosses will turn up eventually,' he said. 'Chastened, but alive. Mostly.'

'Mostly? All of them will be mostly alive? Or most of them will be all alive?'

Lex chuckled. 'That depends,' he replied.

'I don't know how you can joke about it?' said Martha. 'They're criminals. Murderers. Thieves.'

'Not very nice people, no,' said Lex. 'I try to keep them in line.'

'Why don't you just let Superman handle it? He should go in there and round them up, and….'

'And what? Mom? You want me to dispense -- what is the term?'

'Summary justice?' Lex suggested.

'Yes. Who am I to set myself above the law?'

'Why does Lex have the right? What did you do, Lex? Kill anyone who objected to your rule? How is that different?'

'As far as I know, they're still alive,' said Lex. 'I told them to go to church and give money to orphans. When they do that, they'll feel a lot better about themselves, and be ready to appear in public again.'

'I'll tell you why Lex has more right than I do, Mom. He's human. He's vulnerable. He's not a super powered being. If I start here in Metropolis, ruling the underworld, where will it end? Who would be able to stop me?'

'You have more right because you're a better person,' said Martha.

'Am I? Really? I've committed crimes. I've stolen things. I stole your car once, Lex.'

'Yes?' Lex put his drink down, slowly and carefully. He seemed about to rise to his feet, perhaps to leave the room. 'I figured that out. Why confess to me now?'

Clark came and sat by his feet, and looked up into his face, earnestly. 'I've done some pretty lousy things in my life,' he said. 'I just wanted you to know that I'm not some sort of superior being.'

'I've always known that,' said Lex. 'But it doesn't matter. I never looked to search out your faults. That wasn't why I tried to figure you out -- so that I could prove you were as fallible and as degraded as myself. I wanted you to be a good person -- a better person than I will ever be. I looked up to you. I didn't mean to….'

'I know,' said Clark. 'It's okay.' He straddled Lex's lap, and bent to kiss him, ignoring Martha's presence in the room. Neither of them heard her leave.

*************

It was three AM. Clark realized it was a soft tapping on the door that had wakened him. He pulled on his robe, and answered it. Mercy stood in the doorway, looking as white and shaky as he'd ever seen her. 'I need to talk to the Boss,' she said.

'I'm awake, Mercy. What's wrong?' asked Lex, from the bed.

'It's Mrs Kent, sir. She's… she's escaped.'

*********************

*********************

 

'I'm very sorry, sir. I don't know what happened,' said Mercy for the tenth time. She seemed sleepy, and her speech was slurred. Lex suspected she'd been drugged, just enough for her to doze off briefly, but not enough to alert her that something was wrong.

'You can commit seppuku later, Mercy… I'm joking, Clark. And quit standing around like the statue in Don Giovanni, will you? Make yourself useful. Use those superpowers for good. Track your mom down.'

'That's what I'm doing,' said Clark. 'It's not like she's wearing a GPS chip.'

'Make a note, Mercy -- next time I take a prisoner, that's the first thing we do. Install a GPS chip.'

'Yes, sir. The helicopter pilot reports he's ready to fly when you are.'

'Good. All we need is a destination. Clark?'

'I've located her. She's driving to Smallville, but… Yes, she seems to be heading for the Mansion. Why? Never mind. I'll stop her.'

'No. Listen, Clark. This is our chance to find out what she's up to… and no, I didn't let her escape on purpose for that. With anyone else I might have, but not for someone I care about. But now she's done it, now she's a loose cannon, we might as well profit from it. If you catch her, she'll only stonewall you.' Lex was heading for the roof of the Penthouse as he spoke, Mercy on one side, Donnelly Milash with the snow globe on the other. 'You go on ahead,' he continued, 'But don't try and stop her from what she's doing, until we arrive.'

'I don't know if that's wise,' said Clark.

'It's Twelfth Night,' Lex pointed out. 'Very early in the morning, but still Twelfth Night. She waited until today to try to escape. This must have something to do with the Green Man. We need to know how she's involved.'

'Okay,' said Clark. 'But I'm not happy about it.'

'Who is? Except maybe your mom.'

'I don't think she's happy, either,' said Clark.

'Go!' said Lex. 'And if it looks like she's in mortal danger, forget everything I just said.'

'Yeah. I don't need you to tell me that,' said Clark, as he flew off toward Smallville.

Lex smiled. 'I'm glad to hear it,' he called after his lover. Then he sprinted for the helicopter. 'Head for the Mansion, in Smallville,' he told the pilot. 'Keep an eye out for Superman. He's going to meet us there. Follow my orders first, then his. Got that?'

'Yes, sir,' said the pilot.

It had snowed earlier, but the night was cold and clear. It wouldn't be light for hours yet. What was so important at the Mansion that Martha Kent would drive there at this hour? Well, it was the best chance for her to escape, of course -- the middle of the night, when almost everyone was asleep.

As they neared the Mansion, Lex used his binoculars and picked up Superman, lazily flying in circles over the roof. Then his cell phone rang. 'I'm here,' said Superman.

'I can see you,' said Lex. 'What is our quarry's ETA?'

'About ten minutes,' said Superman. 'Looks like you're going to beat her here.'

'Good. We'll land out of sight, and try to join you inside, before she shows up.'

'Roger that,' said Clark. 'Over and out.'

This was, in fact, beginning to feel like some sort of CIA operation, thought Lex. The helicopter landed behind some trees, that shielded it from the front of the house. Lex told the pilot to wait there until he returned. 'Or until Superman gives you other orders,' he added. Then he led Mercy and Donnelly Milash around to a small side door, hidden by bushes. 'I'm sneaking into my own house,' he muttered to himself.

'The car is driving up to the front,' Superman told him over the phone. 'You just made it in time. I don't think Mom has seen me. It's still pretty dark and I'm pretty high up. I'll wait until she goes inside and then join you.'

'Roger that,' said Lex. 'Over and out…. I always wanted to say things like that,' he added as an aside to Mercy.

'Men never grow up,' was her comment.

There was a whoosh, and Superman joined them. 'Mom just drove up to the house, and let herself in the front door with a key,' he reported.

'In the meantime, we're sneaking in round the back, yes? The irony hasn't escaped me. What's she doing now?'

Superman turned on his X-Ray vision. 'She's going down to the basement,' he said. 'Hmmm….'

'What? What's happening?'

'Did you know there's a room in your basement that's lined with lead?'

'No, I didn't,' said Lex. 'I haven't really lived here for years. Not since the good old Smallville days. Back then, I didn't know you couldn't see through lead. So, what you want to bet she goes into that room?'

'I can't afford to bet against you on such a sure thing,' said Clark. 'She just opened the door and now… I got a quick glance when she opened the door. Looked like a bunch of bodies floating in tanks.'

'Clones? I used to clone people, but in my labs, not here at the Mansion. That's not the sort of work anyone likes to take home with them.'

'Um… Okay. Might have been clones, but I had no way to tell. She's closed the door. Any idea what we should do now? It's your mansion.'

'She's your mother,' Lex pointed out, in turn. 'And I probably don't have a key to that room.'

'You know something, Lex? If I didn't know you so well, I'd think you were afraid of her.'

'I am,' Lex confessed. 'Not in the way you think. But she has the power to hurt me, like you do, like my father did. That's what I fear -- the pain she can deal out. And I have no defence against it.'

Superman closed his eyes for a moment. 'I know what you mean,' he said. 'I don't want to know what she's up to, either. But we need to know. Why don't we go downstairs. Wait outside the door. See what comes out when she opens it again.'

'Yeah,' said Lex, after a moment. 'Or we could go up to the door and knock.

*******************

Lex knocked at the door. When there was no answer, he pounded on it. Then he tried the handle. 'Well, look at this,' he said. 'It's not locked. Who'd have thunk?'

The door opened slowly, creakily. 'Like a Frankenstein movie,' said Superman.

'How appropriate,' said Lex. 'Martha! Quite the surprising woman, aren't you? But I guess you weren't expecting to be interrupted?'

'But Lana's even more of a surprise,' Superman added. 'What are you up to?'

'That's none of your business,' said Lana.

'Well, I think it is,' said Lex. 'It's my business, at least, because this is my home.'

'It's my home, too.'

'Not for years. Not since the divorce, after you framed me for your murder and stole my money, which I then gave you in the settlement, even though we really hadn't been married long enough for you to deserve it.'

'How sweet of you,' said Lana.

'I thought so, too,' said Lex. 'You will now explain what you're doing here in my home, in the basement, in the middle of the night with Martha Kent.'

'We're having an affair,' said Lana, with a smirk.

'I'm happy for you both,' said Lex. 'Now get yourselves a room. Elsewhere.'

'Uh… Lex. I don't think they're… involved. Not that way.'

'Really? How perceptive of you, Superman. What do you think they are up to?'

'Looks like they're messing around with clones.'

'Shocking!'

'How dare you criticize me for that, Lex Luthor?'

'To be truthful, I'm not. You can spawn clones, have affairs with anyone you please -- even Martha Kent -- or hold prayer meetings, for all I care. But this is my home….'

'You're never here!'

'It's still my home and you're trespassing. Get your own clone factory. You can afford it.'

'Uh… Lex. Come see this.'

'Keep an eye on them, Mercy. If they move, shoot them in the leg.'

'It would be my pleasure, Boss.'

Lex still kept a wary eye on the two women as he sidled around to stand beside Superman in front of one of the glass tanks. A naked body was floating in the liquid. A male body. Something about it looked familiar.

'My God!' said Lex.

'Yes,' said Superman.

'If I were Roman Catholic, I'd cross myself.' Then he shrugged and crossed himself. 'Martha? What is Satan doing in my basement?'

'That's not Satan.'

'Isn't it? I disagree.'

'Lex? He's alive.'

'No, Clark. He's supposed to be dead.'

'You'd know, wouldn't you?' said Lana. 'You killed him.'

'Not well enough, obviously. He's like a cockroach. No matter how hard you stomp on him….'

'Lex?'

'Shut up, Clark. Was this all a plot? Were you in on it?'

'No, Lex. No.'

'Why should I believe you? All you ever did was lie to me in the past. You set this whole thing up with Martha and Lana, didn't you?'

'Why would I do that?'

'Why did you ever do anything? Becoming friends with my father… and here he is… and Lana, too. Is this a plot to get revenge on me?'

'Lex, I swear….'

'You did a lot of that. Swearing to be my friend, I mean. But it meant nothing. Why should this mean anything?'

'Boss? Are you okay over there?'

'Yes, Mercy. I can handle this. You keep your eyes on the women.'

Donnelly Milash edged over to stand beside Lex. He still held the case with the snow globe. 'If there is a plot,' he said, softly. 'I'm not a part of it.'

Lex breathed slowly, keeping his eyes on Superman. It would be wasted effort, he thought, if Superman decided to fly off, or attack, or anything at all he wanted to do. But Lex had no intentions of simply giving up and making things easier for the alien. 'Thank you, Milash,' he offered. 'I believe you.' Though he didn't. Not really. But he had to keep face, to pretend that someone was still on his side.

Superman stood very still, his eyes meeting Lex's own. There was no guilt in those eyes, but who knew how well he had learned to lie over the years. 'Lex,' he said. 'If this is a plot, I'm not part of it. I… I understand why you don't believe me, but I'm not lying to you.'

'Don't believe him, Lex,' said Lana. 'Why would anyone love you, sleep with you, unless they had ulterior motives? I wanted your money, and I wanted to punish Clark for leaving me, and I wanted to protect Clark from you. But I never loved you. Clark doesn't love you, either. He couldn't love you. You're not worth it.'

'That's not true,' said Superman. He looked at Lex, never at Lana. 'It's not true, and I'll prove it.' Suddenly he whirled, and hit the side of the clone tank. Liquid poured out in a great rush, and the body of Lionel Luthor fell to the floor, to lie amid the glass fragments.

*************  
*************

They sat in the library. Or, rather, most of them sat, while Lex paced up and down, and Mercy stood guard. She was doing a good job of keeping an eye on everyone, by this point.

Lex stopped pacing, suddenly. 'Would everyone like a drink?' he asked.

'Not me, Boss. I'm on duty.'

'You're a good employee, Mercy,' Lex replied. 'Milash? A whiskey and soda? Sure. Mrs. Kent? Oh, come on. Loosen up. Celebrate. You got your boyfriend back.'

'Lex….'

'Sorry, Superman. But you know they were doing it, right? Well, I don't want to think about it either. But it's the only thing that's keeping me from going postal on them both. Love makes people do crazy things. Look at me: Exhibit Number One.'

'Lex.'

Superman was sitting quietly, next to Donnelly Milash, separated from Lana and Martha and Lionel by several yards and a quantity of furniture. Lex gathered he was supposed to be impressed by the symbolism. 'Would you like a drink…Dad?'

'I.. I'm not sure,' said Lionel Luthor. He was wearing some of his old clothes Lex had hunted down in an attic. He looked pale and strange.

'Oh, don't try that,' Lex protested. 'Don't try to pretend to be innocent and out of it all. Do you think I'm a fool? No! Don't answer that. I know I'm a fool. Just not that much of a fool. I'm fool enough to believe in the people I love, over and over. Just not fool enough to believe you are innocent and don't know perfectly well what's going on. I know you'd like a drink, and you do, too.'

Lex went to pour drinks. Clark approached him, cautiously. Not that he was afraid of Lex physically, but, as Lex himself had pointed out, there were plenty of other ways to hurt someone, and Lex had always possessed the weapons to hurt Clark emotionally. 'Lex?' he ventured.

'Yes, Clark?' Lex purred.

'I knew nothing about any of this.'

'Okay. My dad's innocent of all blame, and so is your mom, and Lana is a pure angel -- And I'm Henry the Eighth. What else?' He looked up at Clark, his face hard, his eyes like cold, gray ashes after a fire storm. A great conflagration, thought Clark, that leaves nothing standing intact… and yet there it was: Lex's spirit still strong, and ready to rise, Phoenix-like from the ashes.

'I knew nothing, Lex. Why would I….'

'Yes. Why would you? I know this isn't your sort of thing -- such an elaborate plot. But Dad is perfectly Byzantine, and so, by the way, is Lana. Your mother? Maybe. I don't think she would come up with a plot like this on her own, but who knows? I'm always thinking I know people and then find out differently.'

'And you think they sucked me into their plot? And part of that plot involved me seducing you? Why?'

'To make it hurt more when you turned on me,' said Lex. But his voice sounded less sure of itself. 'Is that too paranoid?' he asked, desperately. 'Or not paranoid enough? I don't know anymore.'

'It's not too paranoid to suspect your father of such a plot. Or Lana, I must admit. Maybe even my mom, though I doubt it. But Lex… I lie. Okay? I admit it. I lie. I used you in the past. I kept going to you for favours, and lied to you, and went back for more favours. I… I betrayed you to your father to protect myself, mostly, and then made excuses it was to help you. I'm a jerk like that, but not like this. I'd never sleep with someone, just to use them. Never.'

Lex turned to him, his eyes bright and curious. 'Why not?' he asked. 'Do you think using someone by having sex with them is wicked, but betraying them to the enemy that tried to murder them is merely being a jerk? Because I don't agree. Clearly we have differing ideas about good and evil.'

'I don't think… It's not because… I can't, Lex. I just can't. I can't have sex with someone I don't love, or at least care about. Physically, I mean.' Clark dropped his voice very low, for Lex's ears alone. 'It won't work,' he added.

Lex stared at him now. 'I see,' he said. He reached out and touched Clark's face. Ran a thumb down his eyebrow. Watched Clark's eyes react, the pupils growing deep and dark. 'I see,' he said again. 'That's a… helpful thing to know.' He patted Clark's cheek again, and then slapped it, suddenly and very lightly. Clark stood still, and let him. 'Okay,' said Lex. 'You're forgiven. Let's agree not to mention this again. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' said Clark, and he breathed freely again.

'Ah. How sweet,' Lana simpered. 'The boys are back together. Have you always let Lex abuse you like that, Clark?'

'You're joking, right?'

'It seems,' said Lex. 'That we are back on the same side, at least. Let's try to work this out, shall we, Clark? Why would they clone Lionel Luthor, and raise him like a giant mushroom in my basement? Or rather, a giant toadstool. That seems a more appropriate term.'

'I'm not a toadstool,' said Lionel. 'I'm human. I do remember that much.'

'Ah! This is breaking my heart. So full of angst and potential tragedy. The clone that can't remember its origins. But it does think it's human.'

Lana went to sit beside Lionel on the couch. She patted his hand. 'Lex is cruel,' she said. 'It's not your fault. You haven't finished growing.'

'Clark! How cruel of you. You decanted him too soon. Listen, Dad -- you are a great humanitarian, and the best father who ever lived. Your resurrection is like Christmas, Easter and my birthday all rolled into one. These evil people…' Here he waved his hand to indicate Martha and Lana… 'These evil people have tried to subvert you to their evil cause. Come back to the fold. Join us, and use your powers for good.'

Lionel stared at him, with a blank face.

'You're funny,' said Lana.

'I think so, too,' said Lex. 'But it's the truth, isn't it? Why else would you create a clone of someone like Lionel Luthor, who should have stayed dead, unless you have an evil plan?'

'Were you really sleeping with him, Mom?' Clark interjected. 'And stop telling me it's none of my business.'

'It isn't any of your business, but yes. We were sleeping together. So what? You're sleeping with Lex.'

'Yeah, and that makes Lex and me like brothers or something. Brothers who sleep together!'

'Please,' Lex protested. 'I'd rather not have thought of that.'

'I suppose I might as well explain a bit of this now,' Martha went on. 'It wasn't my idea to make a clone, it was Lionel's. He suspected Lex was going to try to kill him, and besides, his health was failing, again. So, he started a clone. Several, in fact. There are more in the basement, in various stages of growth. But Lex struck before one was ready to put in place.'

'That was years ago,' Clark pointed out. 'Why try to activate one now.'

'You messed up all our plans,' said Martha. 'First you left Earth, and didn't return for five years. And when you did return, you… you started an affair with Lex, of all people.'

'It's more than an affair,' said Clark.

Martha ignored this information. 'I was supposed to activate a clone much earlier. You were to be suitably angered at Lionel's murder, and willing to do anything to defeat Lex and take back LuthorCorp. And it was all to develop from there.'

'All?' asked Clark. 'What all? What was all to develop?'

'What difference does it make now? You've joined the enemy. You'll never reach your full potential now.'

'My full potential.'

'Yes,' said Lana. 'We could have changed the world for the better. But now you're wasting your life with this…psychopath.'

'You're the one who's sitting on a couch beside the clone of Lionel Luthor,' Lex pointed out. 'I'd consider your words to be stones thrown in a glass house. Speaking of glass, and throwing -- why did you try to break the snow globe, Mrs. Kent?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Granted. A few nights ago, Clark caught you snooping in my study. You found the snow globe -- Donnelly? This snow globe, see? You tried to break it, and you refused to enlighten us then, but now that we're all confessing our sins, perhaps you would do us the honour of explaining yourself? No?'

'I just wanted to destroy it, that's all,' said Martha.

'Meaning that there was some specific purpose for your actions. Perhaps it was to destroy me, rather than the globe? The globe was sent to me, wasn't it?'

Martha Kent actually looked truly confused. 'Not by me,' she said. 'I was bewildered when it disappeared and turned up in Clark's hands.'

'Hmmm. I wonder. I wonder if this is like the One Ring. You know? From the Lord of the Rings? It tries to create its own Destiny. It grows and shrinks and calls to people, and leaves its keepers -- like it was alive. Perhaps the Globe was trying to get to me, or to Clark, and so it did. I wonder.' Lex stared at the globe, fascinated. 'And I wonder what would have happened if you'd broken it,' he added. Suddenly, so suddenly that even Clark couldn't react, he threw it against the wall.

'Lex! What have you done?' cried Clark.

But the globe didn't break. Instead, it fell to the floor, still whole. It glowed, though, and began to play music. Clark remembered that music -- the wild music of the highlands. What had Lex called it, again? A Brosnachadh. A call to battle.

'Peace,' said Lex. 'I'm sure it won't hurt you or your mother, else she wouldn't have tried to break it. Maybe it will attack me, somehow. Turn me into Gollum, perhaps?'

'Don't joke,' said Clark…

…And then they heard it, the sound of a horse and rider, coming down the hall of the mansion toward the library. The door burst open, and there he was -- the Green Rider, on his green horse, and in his hand he held a green lance.

'Clark Kent,' the creature intoned. 'Kal-El. Superman. The man with three names. I have come to keep our date with destiny.'

*****************

 

'I'm ready,' said Clark.

'Clark, this isn't necessary.'

'Stay out of it, Lex. 'This is my fight.'

'It's not a fight,' said the Rider. 'I let you remove my head last year. Now it's my turn.'

'I don't think my friend would survive decapitation,' said Lex. 'Take my head, instead.'

'Your friend? He is but your friend, and you offer to die for him?'

'I would die for anyone I loved.'

'No need,' said the Rider. 'Your friend did not kill me. I have no hatred for him. Before I give my return blow, I want to ask Clark Kent three questions. My first question is, why do you love Lex Luthor?'

'Why? Why do I love? Does anyone know the answer to that? He makes me feel complete, that's all I can say.'

'And yet, at one time you hated him.'

'Is that your second question?'

'No, it's part of my first question. And it truly isn't a question at all.'

'I thought I hated Lex, but I was wrong. Lex… he didn't fulfill my fantasies of what I thought a friend should be. He kept asking questions, kept expecting me to be something I wasn't ready to be. When I was a boy, I thought that was a bad thing. Now that I've grown up… I realize he was trying to help me to grow up, trying to help me become an honourable, loyal friend. But I was too young and stupid to appreciate that.'

'My second question is, why do you fear and love the red stones?'

'You know about that? Okay. They take away my guilt feelings when I've done something wrong.'

'Guilt,' said the Rider. 'What is guilt?'

'You don't know?'

'If I knew, I wouldn't ask.'

'Okay. Guilt is the feeling of pain you get when you've done something you shouldn't.'

'Why would anyone want to feel this pain?'

'Well, we don't, but it's necessary. Otherwise we'd just do whatever we wanted.'

'Why?' asked the Rider. 'Why not just do what is right, regardless of the pain?'

'I don't know,' Clark confessed, after a long moment. 'But people who feel no guilt, are called sociopaths, and they cause a lot of problems in the world.'

The Green Rider stared at Clark for a long moment, then slowly lowered his spear. The tip of the spear glowed a deep red. 'Prepare to receive my blow,' he said.

'I thought you had three questions,' said Clark.

'I do,' said the Rider. He spurred his horse toward Clark.

Lex cried out, 'No!' But before he could intervene, the tip of the spear pierced Clark's forehead.

Clark stood still, not even reeling back from the impact. 'I'm fine,' he said to Lex. 'Fine.'

'There's blood on your brow,' said Lex. He reached up to touch it, but it had dried already, into the form of a red star.

'Your friend is alive,' said the Rider. 'I had no need to kill him.'

'Good,' said Lex. 'Now you've carried out your mission, whatever that was. So please leave.'

'My mission is not yet complete. I have one more question to ask. Please stand there.' The Rider pointed with his spear, to the centre of the room. 'And you, Lex Luthor, please stand back with your other friends.'

'Why should I? I'm still worried about Clark. You speared him in the head.'

'I'm fine, Lex. Let's get this over with, so we can go home.'

'Home, yes,' said the Rider. 'Look about you, Clark Kent, Superman, Kal-El. The man with three names. I had three questions for you, and this is the third. I give you three choices. You may join me, and be a Knight Errant, apart from all human connections and relationships. You may join your mother and her friends, and help them in their plans to save the world. Or you may go with Lex Luthor and the globe. Which is it to be?'

'That's not a difficult choice,' said Clark.

'Wait! Before you answer, perhaps each of us should state their case and answer your questions, if you have them?'

'Fair enough,' said Clark. 'Why did you come here to challenge me?'

'But I didn't,' said the Rider. 'I told you last year, I answered the music, the call to battle. The one who wields the globe challenges me. I answer in the way I see fit.'

'The one who wields the globe? What is the globe? Why did Lionel send the globe to you, Mom?'

'It was a simple gift, at first,' said Martha Kent. 'But Lana discovered it was a magical device. But we couldn't figure out how to use it. We were working on that when Lionel died.'

'I died?' Lionel asked, in an astonished voice. 'I'm dead?'

'There is writing inside the globe, remember?' said Donnelly Milash. 'You discovered it, Clark, and wrote it down for me. It's very ancient writing, and I just translated it the other day.'

'What? You didn't tell me you'd translated it,' said Clark.

'I told Lex first,' said Milash. 'He's my employer, and my first loyalty is to him.'

'Lex?'

'Milash translated it,' said Lex. 'But neither of us were sure about the meaning. The inscription seems to say: The one who wields me, is the true saviour of the globe. But the words cannot be so easily be translated into English. It might mean the opposite. The true saviour of the globe is the one who wields me.'

'What's the difference?' said Clark.

'There may be a lot of difference,' said Lex.

Lana spoke up. 'I tried to send the globe to you, Clark, but it ended up in Lex's penthouse. It took some meddling to get it where it belonged.'

'Where it belonged? You mean with me? But I can't wield the globe. It's Lex who got it to play the Brosnachadh. I can't even get it to play Happy Birthday.'

'That doesn't mean a thing,' said Lana.

'It means everything,' said Clark. He turned and started to walk toward Lex.

'You're going with him?' asked Martha, and she sounded both astonished and angry. 'You could be the saviour of the world, but you'd rather destroy it?'

Clark took the snow globe from Milash and handed it to Lex. 'Can you wield this?' he asked.

Lex twisted the base of the globe and it began to play another wild tune. Not a Brosnachadh this time, but something softer… but something alien….

The room began to grow darker, colder. 'What's happening?' said Clark.

'You have chosen,' said the Rider. 'You have chosen to live in one of the worlds mastered by the Globe. I have removed your guilt….'

'What!'

'The star upon your forehead is of the red stone, and it cannot be removed. You might learn to make decisions not based upon pain. In one year we will have our third and final encounter.'

'I will be ready!' Clark shouted, angrily, but he didn't know if his words reached the ears of the Green Rider, for he was being drawn down, down, into a vast cavern of time….

*************  
*****************  
*************

The Universe stopped tilting around them. Clark realized that he was holding Lex tightly in his arms, and hurriedly let go, before the other man could comment.

He looked around. The room didn't seem to be any different, but it felt different, or… sounded different. The air smelt different, he thought. But everyone -- Lex, Mercy, Milash and himself -- all had survived the journey intact. Everyone looked the same, too, and that was the important thing, he thought.

He strode over to a window, and looked out. 'Lex?' he said. 'I don't think we're in Kansas any more.'

Lex joined him at the window. 'This looks like Scotland,' he said. 'The Scottish Highlands. But… this sort of Scottish wilderness doesn't exist any longer, nor has it, for years.'

'It does in this universe.'

'We haven't travelled only through space, then, but through time as well.'

'Maybe. But I gathered from the Green Rider's little talk, that this was a completely different world.'

'A parallel universe, perhaps?'

Clark recovered his equilibrium, and used his X-Ray vision. At least his powers still seemed to work here, so this must be a world with a yellow sun. That was good, as far as it went. He spied on people walking down the streets of a nearby village. This world looked a lot like their own, but the fashions were different. Old fashioned perhaps? Or just richer and more elaborate? As he tuned in to a town further away, he saw that they drove cars that looked like they belonged to the early twentieth century. But….

'Lex! The cars here are steam driven. And…' He tried his superhearing….

'They speak a different language,' he went on. 'Some form of Gaelic, I think. I understand and speak many languages, but not this one.

'I know a little Gaelic,' said Milash. 'But not enough to translate it.'

Lex sighed. 'We have to adapt,' he said. 'Learn the language. We're all intelligent enough.'

'The Green Rider said you could wield the globe,' Mercy pointed out. 'Can't you change this world, or… change us, somehow?'

'Change us? That sounds frightening.' Lex lifted the globe up to a light, and looked inside. 'The city is gone,' he announced. 'It's not Metropolis any longer, but a strange new city. Can I really control this world.'

'Not control it,' said Milash. 'Save it. That's what the globe says. If you can wield the globe, you are the saviour of the world.'

'Ridiculous!' said Lex, but he lifted his head proudly. Clark remembered that he had always wanted to save the world, not to rule it.

Lex turned the globe in his hands, studying the parts of it once more. Then he twisted something in the base of the globe and a new tune played. Clark wondered if they were about to go spinning off to yet another universe -- but no. Nothing seemed to happen at first, but then he realized he could understand the language of the people around the mansion. He was about to announce this, when a door opened and a strange man entered the room.

'Your Majesty,' he said, bowing to Lex. 'You asked to be reminded about the time. It is one hour until the broadcast.'

'Thank you,' said Lex, with marmoreal calm. 'Remind me about the nature of this broadcast, as well, if you would be so kind.'

'Your Majesty? The nature… You should know the nature of the broadcast, by heart.'

Lex's head lifted fractionally. His eyes grew cold. 'Humour me,' he said, softly.

The man's face grew paler. 'Of course, Your Majesty,' he said. 'This is your annual Twelfth Night Speech From the Throne, to your people. I have my copy here, if you'd like to check it over.'

'Thank you,' said Lex. 'I will do so.'

The man turned to go, but then appeared to notice Clark for the first time. He stopped, and stared in obvious shock and amazement. 'Prince Kal!' he exclaimed. 'You… you have returned.' He turned to look at Lex again, his face suffused with joy and understanding. 'I apologize for the misunderstanding, Your Majesty,' he said. 'I did not know that your consort has returned from his long journey. Of course this changes everything, and your speech is no longer relevant, I would assume. Do you wish that I should warn the staff the Prince has returned?'

'Please do so,' said Lex.

The man bowed his way out of the room.

'King?' asked Clark.

'Prince?' asked Lex.

'What am I?' asked Mercy. 'Chopped liver?'

Milash smiled.

'Clark, do me a favour?'

'Anything for my King,' smirked Clark.

'Find some recent publications, very quickly, so we can bone up on what's going on. I have to make a speech, in less than an hour, and not look so foolish that they have me deposed and beheaded.'

'That won't happen,' said Clark, but he used his superspeed to collect several newspapers and interesting looking magazines. He read them at superspeed, and relayed as much information to the others as he could.

'You are King Alexander, of Scotland,' he told Lex. 'But don't scoff. Scotland is a world power, in this universe.'

'Why should I scoff? And you are Prince Kal?'

'The world knows I'm from another planet, and that I'm your "consort". We married to secure the alliance of our peoples. I've been away for several years, and was feared dead. That man who came to speak to us is your chief advisor, Lord William Dunsany. Lady Meredith is your bodyguard, not chopped liver.'

'Lady? Fair enough,' said Mercy.

'And Mister Milash, you are King Alexander's version of Merlin.'

'I am honoured,' said Milash, with a bow.

'Thank you, Clark,' said Lex. 'That is helpful, as far as it goes.' But his eyes shone. 'This speech is doleful,' he went on. 'I must rewrite it, extolling the glories of your return.' Lex sat down at his desk, pen in hand, as if he hadn't a worry in the world, other than editing his speech.

He was still doing rewrites when they went to change into more suitable costumes for the broadcast. They strolled down the stairs side by side, Lex still going over his speech under his breath.

'His Majesty King Alexander of Scotland, Great Britain, and most of the Known World. His Serene Highness Prince Kal of Krypton. Lord Donally and Lady Meredith. All bow to His Majesty.'

The waiting crowd in the Presence Chamber bowed, and gasped as Clark came into view. 'He really has returned!' they kept saying.

Lex sat down on his throne. The cameras turned to him. 'My loyal subjects….'

***********

It was much later, after the success of Lex's speech from the throne. They were all sitting in Clark's private chambers, which he had declared to be the most secure from scrutiny.

'Tell me everything, now,' said Lex.

'It seems you are the King because an ancestor of yours made a pact with my people,' said Clark. 'The pact states that a member of the Kryptonian royal family joins the Scottish royal family in some capacity -- usually marriage. In our case, it is marriage. I am your Consort.'

'And in return, we give the Kryptonians?'

''They are, essentially, Earth's Overlords. I'm the Kryptonian representative here on Earth, but the people like me. It seems I'm fairer and more honest than my predecessors.'

'Nice of you,' said Lex.

'Lex, this wasn't of my making…' Clark began.

'Of course not,' said Lex. 'My ancestor made a pact with your ancestors. It wasn't of our making. But it will be of our unmaking, one way or another. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' said Clark.

'Agreed,' said Milash.

'Agreed,' said Mercy.

'Then, since we are all in agreement,' said Lex. 'Let us begin.'

***The End, Until Next Year***


End file.
